


Grammar Police

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-03-31
Updated: 2001-03-31
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:42:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14799374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Contraction or possessive - that is the question!





	Grammar Police

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Disclaimers: They're not mine. Sometimes I ask them out to play, but they go home with Mr. Sorkin, et. al.  
Spoilers: Yeah, sure, anything goes.   
Rating: PG, I guess. There's a little phrase buried in there...  
Archive: Sure, let me know where and keep my name (JenF) attached.  
Author's Note: This is my penance for typos. It has nothing to do with my current (or former) series. Other than the fact that I have too many typos. <Gasp!>  
Another Author's Note: Stacy is being punished.  


  
Summary: Contraction or possessive--that is the question!  


  
Grammar Police (1/1)  
by JenF  


  


Toby strode purposefully down the corridor, bound for CJ's office. He entered without knocking. "CJ!"

She had been deep in thought and his entrance startled her. The pencil she had been tapping on the desk went flying and Toby had to duck to avoid turning in to a statistic on an office injury report.

"Hey!"

"Well, knocking probably would have avoided the situation," CJ told him.

"And what could have avoided this one?" he asked, waving papers in front of him.

"What have you got?"

"A travesty!"

"A travesty?"

"Of epic proportion." He continued to wave the papers.

"Toby," she said with a sigh. "I've had a really long day, here."

"Who hasn't?"

"*Swear* to God, Toby. Stop waving those papers or the next pencil will hit its mark." She picked up another yellow no. 2.

He stopped waving the papers and sat on the couch.

"Now, if you can remain calm while doing it, please tell me what's upset you so much."

"Your grammar! CJ, did you *really* go to graduate school? Were you *really* a National Merit Scholar? Because the grammar in this..." He waved them again.

"Wave them once more and I will shove them down your throat."

He dropped the papers onto the couch beside him.

In return, she dropped the pencil. 

"Okay," CJ said. "Why don't you take a deep breath and tell me what your little meltdown is about?"

"Was that 'your' Y-O-U-R or Y-O-U-apostrophe-R-E?"

"*What* are you talking about?" CJ demanded.

"You said: '...tell me what your little meltdown is about.' For the time-being, I will ignore the condescending tone of your comment..."

"Because you are *never* condescending," CJ interrupted.

Toby continued, unfazed. "...and simply ask if your 'your' was possessive or a contraction of 'you are.'"

"As in: 'Toby, you're--contraction--out of your--possessive--mind?'" she asked.

"Exactly. Correct. One hundred percent."

She picked up the pencil and hurled it at him.

He ducked again. "Hey!" 

"Get out of my office."

"Look at this," he said, approaching her with the papers. She could see red marks in a couple of places.

"Toby, these are notes from my Matrix Award speech. That was weeks ago."

"And look here." He pointed. "'Their are ever-increasing opportunities for women in the media.' CJ! It should be T-H-E-R-E!"

"Toby! It's a typo! The world is not ending here."

"If the basic rules of grammar..."

"Yada, yada, yada, will lead to the fall of society as we know it. Would that truly be a bad thing? And who the *hell* are you? The grammar police?"

"Now you're mocking me."

"Ya' think?" she asked, looking at him over the top of her glasses. "Go pick on Sam." She made a shooing motion with her hand.

"You are capable of better than this."

"Absolutely," she agreed. "However, I am often up to my neck in crises. These are notes for a speech, typed on a laptop on a plane on my way to New York City. Their--and that's T-H-E-I-R, possessive--only purpose was to help me organize my thoughts for the speech. And amazingly enough 'there' and 'their' and 'your' and 'you're' *sound* exactly alike when you *speak*. That's what matters."

"CJ..."

"What I want to know is how *you* got them," she demanded.

He waved his hand in the air. "Sam got them from Donna who got them from Carol."

"Who was supposed to file them so I could use them again some day, if necessary. Carol! So why did my soon-to-be-former-assistant give them to Donna."

"To mock your grammatical errors."

"Okay, everybody here needs to get a life. There isn't anything more important than criticizing my written notes for a speech I gave weeks ago? It's--and that's with an apostrophe--*not* like I have a speech writer or two to help *me* out. Carol!"

"She's at lunch," he said.

CJ growled. 

"Fix these before you have Carol file them," Toby said.

"Yeah, uh-huh. I'll be sure to do that. Who cares? Who do you want me to do that for?" She paused and grinned an evil grin, watching him shudder. "Go ahead. You know you can't stand it." 

"For whom do you want me to do that," he corrected.

"Of course." She couldn't help but chuckle. "I know. I do this to torment you."

"Really, CJ, fix this." He dropped the papers on the desk and stood with his hands on his hips.

"Really, Toby, bite me."

He took a step back and looked at her. "Charming."

She smiled a sweet smile. "Yeah, try to get your train of thought back now."

He was blushing--she could see it clear through his beard.

"Leave, Toby. Leave me now."

\- END -


End file.
